Icy Gaze
by Miles Edgeworth
Summary: In his icy gaze, Anya learns the story of Nihalthak, and his betrayal


Diablo II-Icy Gaze

Diablo II: Lord of Destruction  
Icy Gaze  
  


_Disclaimer: Diablo II, Nihalthak, Anya, and various others belong to Blizzard. I admit to no ownership of any of these characters. This is a fan-based project devised for non-profit entertainment purposes._

"Nihalthak?" the girl exclaimed, hearing the footsteps of her companion stop, "What's wrong?"

"I'm afraid, my dear, that, it is you that is what is wrong," the barbarian elder responded. He hardly looked much of a barbarian. Well elderly Barbarians like Qual-Kehk were strong and muscular, however Nihalthak looked more like the hated necromancers than any Barbarian. He certainly acted more like one. His movements were like a slithering snake, and he was frail and decrepit. At heart, though, he was like any Barbarian. Anya thought, at least. She turned around, looking at the shivering old man,

"What do you mean, Nihalthak?" she asked, she was a strong, young woman in comparison. The contrast was vivid, pale and pasty was Nihalthak, while Anya had a healthy tan tone to her. She too was shivering, the caves in which they were traveling were filled with cold air and ice. The monsters that wandered here, Baal's minions, steered clear of the elderly man, his mere glance left them stricken with panic. His glance was now affixed on the young woman,

"Dear girl, you seem to me more and more a nuisance. Much too alike, you and your father, may he rest in peace," he explained, "To elaborate, you seem to be at the brink of beginning a series of events that will stop my plan to stop this, this madness." Anya caught an uncharacteristic look in the old man's eye, there was a hollow sadness there, one unlike any she had seen before. His curt manner seemed to vanish and the studious old man had begun to speak with flowery language that seemed to be routed from a hybrid of alchemy and poetry, "Baal has taken far too many lives, too many children I saw growing up were sent to die at the hands of those flagrant demons and their diabolical devices. It has to end, and I think I have found a way. We try to appease gods, do we not? Why not appease the devils, keeping them from harming us. No matter what, how, or when we act, all is lost. We could truly be near the brink of extinction, child, don't you see that?

"However, those fools of Harrogath aren't capable of understanding my plan, we are too stubborn. Over time, they will learn what I am about to do is the right thing, when grief gives way to reason. I wish you could understand, surviving all I have, I learned that pride was a pointless emotion that should swiftly be removed from a man's self. If we let Baal get to the peak of this mountain without resistance, he'll let us be! Don't you see, it's simple logic. In laymen's terms it would be, I believe 'You scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours," simple logic. Do you understand?"

Anya was dumbfounded. With the fleeting of her voice, the musings of her mind became more and more clear. She began to see another glint to Nihalthak's eyes, one she found disturbing and surreal. He was clearly quite mad. She often wondered what it was like to be as old as Nihalthak was reputed to be. Some children jested that Nihalthak was some creepy boogie man that had been around since the dawn of time. She was tempted to agree. Children, after all, are said to say the most amazingly accurate things at times. Nihalthak was creepy, his actions saw to that. The way he rubbed his hands together showed paranoia, the glaze to his eye spoke volumes of his sanity, his footsteps showed the enfeeblement that had come to him over time; Nihalthak could not possibly be human any more, he was something more. No, rather, something less. She started to stutter, her tongue becoming loose again, "Y-y-you..." she started, stumbling over her every letter, "... You're mad!" 

"Am I?" He asked, he appeared to ponder this for a moment, "Perhaps, but I at least do what I believe is right instead of living under fear, terror, or hatred," 

"So you're leaving under Destruction?" she countered, surprised by her own quick thinking,

"I'm trying to let others live, my dear, is that not admirable of me?" he asked. His voice shivered, whether from the cold or from uncertainty she couldn't tell. He seemed quite solid in his resolve, and she admired that. However, what he was doing was clearly madness,

"Please, Nihalthak, stop this lunacy before it even begins!" she yelled, urging the old man to change his mind. He seemed taken aback by her fervor. Then the old man began to frown. It was silent, and cold. Very cold,

"Dear girl, you cannot speak of this to anyone, you realize. To protect myself I could kill you," he said, calmly. He seemed to contemplate this, a dagger had been hidden in his robes she knew, and he was powerful enough to poison her and let her slowly die. He did not reach for that dagger though. Instead, he began to think. Anya was curious as to what he was thinking, in spite of her predicament. The cunning mind of the old man was like a whip, not only was it quick and harsh, but it could lasso something, dragging it closer as it was ensnared in its tendril. "Why do you think I brought you here?" he asked, she began to speak, but he quickly interrupted her, "It doesn't really matter, for here you shall stay until a time I deem fit for you to be released. This frozen river shall keep you locked up." Anya gasped in shock, was he going to toss her into the river? The old man's hands began to shake as he began to chant, slowly at first, but the ardor he had grew. She felt tendrils touching her leg. They were cold to the touch, tentacles formed of pure ice. Her brow furrowed in frustration, she couldn't break loose. She realized what Nihalthak was doing, cursing her to an icy prison. Her shivering increased two-fold, then four-fold, then ten-fold, the ice slowly became more substantial than tendrils, and turned into a block around her lower waist and arms. Her head remained uncovered, Nihalthak had seen to that, "I don't want to have to kill you if it is avoidable. Please, understand, you are dead for now. I have a sanctuary to create for our people, child, and I can't have you destroying that, forgive me." He was curt and serious, Anya noticed. He really was insane.

He left her there, and returned to Harrogath. Nihalthak looked discontented, though. He wondered, idly, as he made his way out of the icy caverns, if what he was doing was wrong. He turned his gaze back, and shook his head. _No_, he concluded, _I'm right, I all ways am._


End file.
